Thursday, February 15, 2007

Valentine Residue

This morning was a walk of an automaton. (2. a person who acts in a monotonous, routine manner, without active intelligence.)

I woke at 5:58 AM. Rolled out of bed, dressed, and was out the door in five minutes. A mild foggy morning. Quiet, damp, peaceful. Nothing in mind except to put in an hour of walking for purely physical reasons and return home for my cup of tea.

Up Harrison, east on Winifred, south on Harold. A few cars, mostly mist shrouded streets. Walk and walk.

Returning on Franklin I was suddenly snapped out of my zen like state by a paperback book on display in the window of, “If the Shoe Fits”. I stopped to take a photo and…